The Haunting of Quenby Mansion Omnibus: A Haunted House Mystery

by J. S. Donovan

  Voices and laughter echoed through the halls. Terrence straightened his posture. He and Evelyn turned back to the door.

  “Be careful, darling.” a woman’s voice said.

  Evelyn and Terrence glanced at Alannah Gimmerson. The curvaceous woman had blood pouring from her neck into her revealing glossy green dress. Zoey, clad in black, was there along with star player Peter Calhoon, old James Barker, and naked and seething Winslow.

  The houseguests neared.

  Terrence’s lips parted nervously as he anticipated the meeting of the party of the dead and party of the living. “Go away,” he whispered to the phantoms.

  Evelyn directed her attention on Alannah. “What do you mean be careful?”

  “Evelyn,” Sheriff Yates stated as he stepped inside the dining room.

  Evelyn quickly turned to him.

  The sheriff bounced his gaze between them. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Evelyn quickly glanced behind her. The phantoms had vanished.

  Deputy Painter, mid-thirties, steel-colored five o’clock shadow, shark eyes, and wearing a green uniform topped by a black felt hat, entered behind him. He stank of cigarettes. He smirked at Evelyn and wouldn’t even look at Terrence.

  Mayor Timberland had clear skin, dark brown hair, squinted eyes, and a rectangular head. He wore a three-piece suit with golden, diamond-studded cufflinks that he fiddled with every few minutes. “The last time I came here, Maxwell Quenby tried to blackmail me. Funny how times change.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Evelyn replied. “I never met the man.”

  Mr. Calhoon, a middle-aged version of his son with the same dimpled chin, dashing looks, and silky hair, followed the mayor. “I was telling Terrence that I had no clue you were Maxwell’s girl.”

  “It didn’t pertain to your son’s case,” Evelyn replied.

  By the way Mr. Calhoon’s face suddenly sank, it was obvious he didn’t believe her.

  The final guest was Dr. Vincent Gregory. He was a tall man with a handsome face and brown hair striped with white. With a guilty expression, he humbly nodded to Evelyn. “I apology for the spontaneity of this visit, but you’ll be glad we came.”

  “I’m famished,” Mayor Timberland said and took a seat near the head of the table.

  He gestured for Terrence to sit at the end seat.

  “I couldn’t,” Terrence replied.

  “As mayor, I say you do as you’re told.”

  “In that case.” Smiling, Terrence claimed the end seat. Evelyn sat next him, opposite of Timberland and Sheriff Yates. Dr. Gregory sat down beside Evelyn and, with great disappointment, Deputy Painter sat next to Gregory.

  “Let’s eat,” Sheriff Yates said, setting his coffee thermos next to his plate.

  Evelyn and Terrence traded looks and then dug in. The barbecue was tender that it nearly melted in her mouth. Evelyn, of course, didn’t take a bite until the rest of the guests had. Calhoon and Terrence talked football. The sheriff and the deputy talked about the women in their life. Evelyn ate quietly with Gregory, the man that beat her mother.

  “Why did you come here?” Evelyn asked him, not doing well to hide her hostility.

  Gregory lowered his fork. “It’s a surprise.”

  “I don’t like surprises,” Evelyn replied.

  “Neither do I,” Gregory took a bite.

  Evelyn whispered. “I’m going to ask you this, because you’ve been nothing but kind to me since I arrived. Why did you beat Lily Copperdoe?”

  Gregory stopped his fork from going into his mouth. He gently put it back on his tray, but Evelyn could see something had scared him. “That’s a ridiculous accusation.”

  Evelyn glared at him. “I heard it from Lily’s own mouth. Now answer my question.”

  Gregory looked at the sauce-slathered pulled pork on his plate. “I was not a pleasant young man, Evelyn. Not that it’s an excuse, but I had a lot of pent-up stress from college, my parents, and the idea of a lifelong commitment to one woman. I needed to feel in control again. I saw Lily for the woman I wanted to her to be, not the woman she was. It was a…challenging thing to overcome.”

  “Hitting women?” Evelyn berated.

  Gregory turned to her. His handsome eyes were soft and vulnerable. “That was over thirty years ago. I’m fifty-nine and a lot smarter and a lot less impulsive. Nothing I say will make you believe I sincerely regret what I did to your mother, so I hope that my actions will speak for a penitent heart.”

  “How long have you known I was her daughter?” Evelyn asked.

  “The moment I heard your last name. Maxwell had only ever been with one woman,” Gregory said. “You turned out beautifully, if I might say. Wherever Maxwell is, I’m sure he would be proud.”

  Lily said that Gregory wore two faces. The friendly face while outside and the abuser behind closed doors. Had he earnestly changed or was this the same charm he used to seduce her mother?

  “Hey,” Sheriff Yates said with a mouthful. He addressed Terrence and Evelyn. “There was a big breakthrough in the Doyle case.”

  Terrence and Evelyn exchanged a look.

  Terrence smiled back at the sheriff. “Really? What’s that?”

  Yates cleared his throat. He was still in uniform and perhaps still on the clock. “A few hunters--local good ol’ boys--were in that woods, the ones a few miles behind her property, and happened upon a cabin.”

  “Oh,” Terrence said, getting sweaty. “Out there?”

  Evelyn pursed her lips. Terrence, you’re such a bad liar.

  Yates and Painter nodded in unison. “Found a few of the Doyles’ things and what appeared to be skull fragmentation and brain matter. Bloody business.”

  Deputy Painter leaned in. “We think someone or something got them.”

  Evelyn heart fluttered. “Who?”

  Yates stopped mid-chew. After a moment, he said. “Don’t know. The two of you are okay. That’s what matters.”

  Something about the way Yates said it made Evelyn suspicious. She could tell Terrence was thinking the same thing.

  “Any developments on who killed my son?” Mr. Calhoon asked.

  “I’m sorry, no,” Evelyn replied.

  “Looking into a serial killer?” Mayor Timberland asked. “That sounds like dangerous work for a private investigator.”

  “Someone has to do it,” Evelyn replied. “It’s usually not the first person you guess. My father Maxwell picked up some heat during the preliminary investigation a decade ago, even though the evidence didn’t point at him.”

  The air seemed to leave the room.

  Mr. Calhoon spoke up. “I think the discovery of bones in his basement makes it pretty clear how involved in the murders he was. With evidence like that, it almost makes me wonder why you’re looking into this case.”

  “I want to help people find closure.”

  “Oh, so that’s it?” Calhoon asked with sarcasm.

  “Hey, chill out,” Terrence told him. “We’re after the same thing you are: the truth. We don’t want misconstrued evidence to fit our idea of the killer. We want a concrete testimony. Something to close this case for good.”

  Evelyn patted his knee. Well said.

  “You know,” Mayor Timberland said, dipping the tips of his napkin into his water glass and wiping his jowls. “I always loved this house. It’s Adders’ private castle. Seventeen rooms, not counting the attic or basement, the place is a palace. Maybe even the last surviving one in Georgia.”

  The change of topic caught them all off guard, it seemed.

  Evelyn smiled falsely at the mayor, not forgetting how he kicked her out of the town hall for simply being Maxwell’s daughter. His friendly facade was not fooling anyone. Evelyn glanced around the rest of the table. Yates, Painter, Timberland, Gregory, and Calhoon. Evelyn realized that she trusted none of these men, and even less so when they were together. They were similar ages, but what drew them together? A lifelong friendship, a similar goal, or a common enemy? She g
lanced at Terrence. Even he was acting odd tonight. Why?

  Mayor Timberland pushed his polished plate away. “I suppose it’s time to tell you the nature of our visit, Evelyn.”

  The men nodded in agreement. Even Calhoon, though he was still visibly angry.

  Evelyn familiarized herself with the door in case anything unexpected happened. Alannah’s words replayed in her mind. Be careful. Be careful. Be careful.

  “And what’s that, Mayor?” Evelyn asked as politely as she could, though it still came out scrutinizing.

  “The Quenby House has been here back when this town was nothing but a trade post, a creek, and couple of lousy cattle pastures,” Timberland started. “Now your family hung on to this place like a root on a cliff. Never letting go. Scared to. After your father’s passing, the Quenby plantation has been in purgatory, so to say. Speaking on behalf of all of your guests tonight, we would like to change that.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Evelyn asked.

  “We want to buy the property.”

  Evelyn wasn’t expecting that. “Why? It’s not finished.”

  Dr. Gregory smiled at her. “That won’t be an issue.”

  “I work in the carpentry business,” Mr. Calhoon said. “I have people that can correct the damages for a fraction of what you would be spending.”

  Terrence looked at Evelyn. There was excitement in his eyes.

  Mr. Calhoon pulled out his checkbook from his suit jacket’s inner pocket. “The others and I have pooled our money together. We can write the check right now, and you’ll have the money in your account by the time you get home. To Detroit, if I’ve heard correctly.”

  Evelyn opened her mouth to speak but Terrence cut her off. “How much are you offering?”

  “For the house, the land, and everything in between,” Mayor Timberland locked eyes with Evelyn. He bounced a pen on his checkbook. “Two point five million dollars, right here, right now, but you both leave tonight.”

  26

  The Buyers

  Evelyn couldn’t believe it. She stared at the blank check and thought about the posh houses in Birmington, outside of Detroit. The timing to start her family never seemed right. That money, even after the IRS knocked them down a few pegs, would give them more than enough breathing room. The ghosts. The murders. All the BS she’d dealt with since she arrived in Adders would be nothing but a bad memory. Maybe the house and the items within were worth more than the two and a half million dollars combined, but this money was sitting in front of her.

  Seated at the head of the table, Terrence covered his mouth. By how his face contorted, he was hiding a huge smile.

  Evelyn studied the men around the table. They watched her anxiously.

  “Why?” Evelyn asked.

  The mayor looked confused.

  “Why do you want the house?” Evelyn asked.

  Mayor Timberland bounced his eyes between his business partners. “Adders needs to expand. Expansion comes from publicity. Publicity comes from tourism. We’re going to restore Quenby to its former glory and make it into our very own Biltmore. Families, children, foreigners from all over the world will come to our Podunk town to witness the life of an Antebellum-era plantation owner. Workers in the cotton field. Balls in the foyer. Costumes. Gift shops. A wholly unique experience in my backyard. Some might find the whole recreation offensive, but all history is.”

  Sheriff Yates set aside his coffee thermos. “Your family name, Evelyn, will be immortalized. Quenby House will be advertised on every billboard in the surrounding hundred miles. How cool is that?”

  “Frankly,” Deputy Painter said, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “I think we’re paying you too much for it, but after ten years of sitting on our thumbs, we want to make some profit off this ruin, and we’re willing to pay to do so.”

  Evelyn glared at them. “If it's only about the money, then why the hell do you need me and my husband out of here? Tonight?”

  Mr. Calhoon spoke up. “Because you’re a problem.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah,” Calhoon continued. “You’ve stirred up more trouble in this town since you arrived that we haven’t seen since--big surprise--your father was around.”

  “I’m doing everything in my power to help you, Mr. Calhoon,” Evelyn objected. “To help your son find rest.”

  “My son is dead and gone, thanks to your father,” Calhoon retorted. “The only way you can help Peter is by getting the hell out of Adders and never coming back.”

  Evelyn thought of the other phantoms in her house. Their wounds. Their families. Evelyn wasn’t the problem. She was their salvation.

  “My father is innocent,” Evelyn said to the men.

  “This really isn’t about your father,” Dr. Gregory said calmly.

  Evelyn boiled. “It has everything to do with my father, and if any of you think I’ll just take your money and forget about the lives that were lost and broken, you don’t know anything about me.”

  Terrence slowly stood up. “Eve, babe, can we discuss this. Privately. Please.”

  Evelyn turned to her rational husband and forced herself to calm down. After everything she’d put him though, she needed to hear him out even if she had no intention of listening. Without a word, she followed Terrence out of the room.

  He turned back to the men. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. It’s been a rough couple of day, but, um, don’t write us off yet.”

  Leaving the door cracked, he stopped in the stubby hallway that connected to the back of the foyer and rubbed both hands up his sweaty bald head. “Evelyn. I love you, but… holy crap. You may have just cost us the biggest payday of our lives.”

  “Listen to me, Terrence. The same night my mother confirmed that Maxwell is innocent and was attacked in his home by his enemies is the same night that these five men decide to show up and buy our mansion. Doesn’t that seem a little off to you?”

  Terrence nodded a few times. “Yeah. Yes. It does, but--Evelyn, do their motives really matter when it comes to that type of money? This is the moment we’ve been waiting for since we came down here.”

  “What about the phantoms? We just condemn them to this mansion until the end of time?”

  Terrence grabbed her upper arms gently. “We didn’t do anything to them. Your father didn’t do anything to them. Our hands are clean, Evelyn. Alannah, Zoey, hell, even Bella Day are not our responsibility. They were never our responsibility.”

  Evelyn glared at him. “Then who will help them?”

  Terrence shrugged. “I don’t know. God? We aren’t the liaison for the dead. We’re two normal, married people who want to start a family. Isn’t that what you want?”

  Evelyn cast down her eyes. “I do, Terrence, but…”

  “No buts,” Terrence said. “If you really, truly want that, then let’s take the money and run while that’s still an option.”

  He brushed his hand down her cheek. “I’ve been your wingman since we came down here. Largely because I know how much learning about your father and helping people means to you. Let me have a chance to take the lead.”

  “So we leave?” Evelyn asked rhetorically. “And everything we’ve done down here means nothing?”

  Terrence pointed to the cracked open door. “That check is not nothing. That’s the end of all of our problems. Unlike Mary Sullivan and the others who made us sleepwalk, crashed our van, forced you to see how they died, have done nothing to aid our investigation, and overall made our lives a living hell. In the nicest way possible, I say screw ‘em. If they're that desperate to go home, they can find a new champion.”

  Evelyn glanced over and saw Alannah, Zoey, Peter, Barker, and Winslow standing in the hall a few feet away.

  Terrence’s eyes went wide, and he slowly turned to them. He gulped as they stared at him with lifeless eyes.

  Barker puffed on his pipe. Thick blood leaked from his lip like sap. “He’s right.”

  “You can’t possibly believe that?” Ala
nnah said with shock. “How else will we get out?”

  Barker took another puff. “I don’t know, but it might be time to explore our options elsewhere.”

  Peter’s glance bounced between Evelyn and Terrence. “Mary was the strongest out of all of us. She kept the two of you bound to this place. Now that she’s gone, nothing is stopping you from walking away. It’s not something we want, but it’s your lives.”

  Winslow muttered something and sniffled.

  Evelyn looked to Zoey. The fifteen-year-old goth girl crossed her arms. “I thought you were different. I thought you actually cared. I guess I was wrong. What a stupid girl I am.”

  Terrence took a deep breath. For the first time, he didn’t look intimidated by the dead. “Evelyn. We helped who we could. Let’s go home.”

  Evelyn stood still. She looked at Zoey and let the cogs in her mind spin.

  “An opportunity like this might never come up again,” Terrence replied.

  “Terrence,” Evelyn said and looked to her husband with a sad smile. “I can’t just walk away.”

  “You can,” Terrence begged.

  Evelyn forced herself to say the next few words. “I’m the sole inheritor. It’s my decision.”

  Dread sank Terrence’s face. “Evelyn, please don’t do this. I’m asking you as your husband.”

  Evelyn took a deep breath. She turned around and entered the dining room. The men stopped their quiet chatter and directed their attention to Evelyn. Terrence lingered in the doorway behind her.

  “Well, Mrs. Carr?” Timberland asked and held the pen over the blank check. “Have you come to your senses?”

  “At this time, I will not be selling Quenby House,” Evelyn said.

  Terrence covered his face with his palm.

  Silence lingered in the room. The candlelight on the table flickered. One of the wicks burnt out, leaving behind a tiny wisp of smoke. Mayor Timberland looked disappointed and angry, Mr. Calhoon’s face was red with rage, Deputy Painter shook his head, Sheriff Yates appeared unfazed, and Dr. Gregory, with glassed-over eyes, had a small, disappointed smile on his face.

  Mayor Timberland closed his checkbook and put it back into his suit jacket. Chair legs screeching against the floor, he stood up and straightened out his clothes. He locked eyes with Evelyn. “Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Carr. We won’t be seeing each other again.”